


Magic Can't Do Chips

by Corone



Series: Hogwarts Outcasts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 18:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4845254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corone/pseuds/Corone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four classmates bunk off their lessons at Hogwarts and get into more trouble than they expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic Can't Do Chips

**Author's Note:**

> I write this to basically put some comprehensive school kids into Harry Potter. I also wanted to have four characters who were the opposite of their House's stereotype, but still fitted their Houses. I got to like these four a lot, so I'm hoping to do more with them.

The location of the Hufflepuff common room is one of the greatest secrets at Hogwarts. Mainly because nobody cares. The Griffindors are constantly trying to get into the Slytherin common room, and vice versa, to the point that they may as well just swap. The Ravenclaws always insist they know how to get into either, but never do. Yet no one has any interest in the secrets of House Hufflepuff. No one at all, not even other Hufflepuffs to be brutally honest. The doings of the other houses always seemed just so much more interesting and exciting. Rivalries, feuds, practical jokes and secret lore were almost a plague to the other houses. But not so for Hufflepuff. 

George mused that this might be a good thing, for him at least. The Hufflepuff common room was basically always empty; the one place in the entire Gormenghastlike building that you knew nothing exciting was going to happen. It was the perfect place to get some work done. Quieter than the library, with the forbidden books constantly biting and scratching in the background. Having said that, at least the library wasn't bloody yellow, and covered in badgers. I mean really, it was enough to put you off custard for life (although the Hufflepuff tradition of custard fighting was one of the few things that made it all worthwhile). But the badger? What were they thinking? Gryffindor got a noble lion, Slytherin the devious snake, Ravenclaw the mysterious raven. What the hell was so great about a bloody badger?

Unfortunately, time was moving on. It was nearly lunchtime, which was to be followed by a long and tedious potions lesson. George had had enough of work for one day, but at least his study time here had got last week's homework out of the way. So much for the hard working Hufflepuff. That was another thing that annoyed him. Where was the glamour in that? The other houses were chosen for bravery, cunning, intelligence, and Hufflepuff was just there to clean up after everyone it seemed. You saw it on every new first year's face. They'd sit expectantly under the sorting hat and you'd watch their face fall as it shouted Hufflepuff. The hat might just as well have said 'let's just be friends'. 

There was one advantage of being a Hufflepuff though, even with all the yellow you were pretty invisible. No one paid you any attention, or assumed you were up to much. The teachers had their hands full with the other houses most of the time anyway. So George had begun a small business of selling muggle items around the school. As a muggle-born wizard these ordinary trinkets, sweets and oddments were pretty boring to George. But the wizarding kids lapped them up. It hadn't been long before he was smuggling all manner of crisps, pez dispensers, mars bars and cola products into Hogwarts. It was making him a tidy profit as well. Such trading wasn't entirely illegal, but it was very frowned upon, and if you'd seen McGonagall frown you'd understand how bad that was. They'd be especially upset if they understood the scale of the business. But he'd usually got a rival Slytherin lined up to take the fall. The more a Slytherin protested innocence, the more no one believed them.   
With carefully sewn pockets in his school robe, George walked along the corridors and quadrangles of the school dispensing his wares. After a few stops it jangled a little from the galleons he'd collected. Behind the carriage house he ran into a few of the older Hufflepuffs, taking the house name rather literally. There were around ten or so of them, flaked out on the grass, a haze of thick smelling smoke gently woven above them. 

Rovington, one of the older boys, gave George and ineffectual wave as he passed by. "Hey George, dude!" he failed to shout. "You wanna hang with us?"

"Not today Roves, you seen my sister?"

Rather than spend too much effort or attention on further communication, Rovington just shrugged. But the rather pale Ravenclaw girl who was using him as a pillow murmured with life as she passed a joint to another colleague. 

"You after Cloves? I think she's over there man," she said as her half lidded eyes indicated the nearby colonnade.

*****

Chloe was not getting on with her homework, but made a valiant attempt to look like she was. To the casual observer, she was engrossed in a thick book detailing the 'Management and care of efficacious lamentations in divination potions'. As this was not unusual for a Ravenclaw, no one looked close enough to see she was reading a copy of the latest Black Widow comic inside it, pausing only to push her hair band back to stop her long lank hair getting in her way. She was so engrossed in the comic that she didn't notice that just sitting up straighter would have solved the problem.

"Hey Cloves!" said George as he flopped beside her on the stone bench. "You know you've got your jumper on inside out again don't you?"

"Oh man!" she dismayed. "I did that yesterday. That's why they were giggling at me in charms. Do you think the teachers saw too? Maybe that’s why I'm failing charms. They might be talking about it to each other. I could fail potions too. Then I'd fail everything. I'd be the worst Ravenclaw ever and I'd be out of here without a job. I'd be the only witch working in Tescos. Do you think they have that? Witches in Tescos?"

"Chloe mate," interrupted George.

"Yes?"

"Shut up sis."

"Alright. I know. But it’s hard in Ravenclaw. I don't know what I'm doing here. I always get picked on too. You stand out when you're the only one without your hand up for every question. Then I get the bloody chorus - 'oh you must know that' or 'go on, it's an easy one'. Then I give the wrong answer and they tilt their heads at me like their necks have a sympathy setting and look at me like I'm a baby bird."

"Did you get the money?"

"Oh yeah, that I did do. I'll need fifteen mars bars."

"Fifteen?"

"Yeah, I told them it was brain food," Chloe grinned back.

As they settled up a balance of galleons and mars bars, the tiny sound of music from a pair of headphones caught their attention. Chloe put down her book and hurriedly did her best with her hair as Naseem came around the corner towards them. His entrance was marred somewhat by Professor McGonagall appearing silently out of nowhere and fixing him with a stern gaze. The sound of Nine Inch Nails was quickly silenced, although whether by Naseem or the ability of a powerful witch to mess with complicated technology it was hard to say.

Chloe moved up a little on the bench and Naseem collapsed down heavily beside her, taking up a little more space than she had offered. He put away his mp3 player, but left his headphones hanging around his neck like an undone bow tie. His robe was left open; joyfully proclaiming with its vivid red lining that he was a Gryffindor.

"Hey Cloves," he said, playfully messing with her hair.

Chloe giggled a little and muttered a quiet response as Naseem and George grasped hands.

"So what's today's adventure?" asked Naseem, who was met with shrugs and silence. "Oh, come on. We have adventures every day in Gryffindor!"

"No, you do not," said Rochelle who was suddenly standing next to them. Her green robes seemingly sliding around her like a snake, as if she had come to a dead stop from a full run.

"We do. I mean I was saying to Harry the other day..."

"You do not know Harry Potter. You have been too frightened to talk to him since he arrived."

"Aw, come on Rochelle," began Chloe in sympathy.

"But we all know this," continue Rochelle. "I fail to understand why we must pretend otherwise."

"It’s called being nice."

"Nice is irrelevant."

"Not with your friends surely," said George.

"Is that what we are?" replied Rochelle, genuinely puzzled.

"Of course!"

"Oh. I apologise. I had simply considered you useful contacts. My reading suggests that the best way to attain ultimate power is to curry the favour of those outside my own house. Slytherin are untrustworthy anyway, and therefore unsuitable for my plans."

"Those plans being?" asked George.

"World domination, obviously," replied Rochelle far too calmly. "Do you have any more crisps?"

"Cheese and onion?" said George, reaching into one of his robe pockets.

"Excellent. I'm afraid I have no galleons on me."

"Thats ok," said George. "Friends get a discount."

Rochelle considered this for a moment and quietly smiled.

"You know, you could be a little nicer sometimes," said Naseem, trying not to look crestfallen.

"I'm only being honest." replied Rochelle. 

"A bit too honest I'd say."

"Lies are for the weak," said Rochelle between bites of crisp.

"Anyway," said Naseem, eager to move the conversation along. "What are we up to today?"

"Well," George whispered, leaning to the others a little closer. "I thought today we might bunk off."

Naseem was aghast. “What? You are kidding. No one bunks off at Hogwarts.”

“You chicken?” replied George.

“Clearly,” said Naseem without any shame. “I’m a lover not a fighter mate.”

“I’m not too sure it’s a good idea either,” said Chloe, and Rochelle remained alarmingly silent.

“You all sure about that? Look, Cloves has a test she probably won’t pass, Nas needs some sort of adventure to impress the other Gryffindor and Shell badly needs the street cred.”

“Rochelle,” corrected a disturbingly quiet voice. “And what do you get out of it?”

“I have a delivery to make, and I could do with the backup.”

“And by backup you mean?”

“Help carrying stuff.”

“I don’t know about this.”

“Ok, final offer. You help me out and I’ll get chips for everyone.”

“Deal,” muttered three voices in unison.

*****

Their pockets full of assorted sweets and chocolate bars, the four would-be truants quietly made their way through the empty corridors of the school. Once the bell had rung, the coast was usually pretty clear. Most students were in class, as were the teachers. Unfortunately, there was the odd prefect to be found.

“Where do you think you’re going?” said an overly confident voice behind the group as they slipped around a corner. They turned to see one of the older Slytherin boys leaning as nonchalantly as he could on the wall behind them, his prefect badge catching the light almost intentionally. They were caught, no two ways about it.

George was dumbstruck, the plan was unravelling before it had even started. He looked to the others for help, but Chloe was staring at the ceiling, already calculating exactly how much trouble they were in. Naseem looked frozen and just dropped everything he was carrying with a thump. But that was the moment Rochelle stepped in. Taking advantage of Naseem’s momentary distraction she drew her wand like lightning and cried ‘petrificus totalis’.

The prefect was more surprised than worried initially. But almost in slow motion realised his defensive spell was going to be far too slow. Rochelle’s magic hit him squarely in the chest and he froze like stone in an instant, and then fell over. The rest of the group were almost as shocked as the prefect.

“Rochelle, what?” spluttered George. “You’ve just made it worse.” He glanced around for support and Naseem nodded dumbly while Chloe was having trouble carrying the twelve now her calculations had altered. In reply, Rochelle walked over to the prone body of the prefect and bend down to look him squarely in the eyes.

“You’re Darius Fellspear aren’t you,” she whispered, and his eyes seemed to agree.

“You know who I am, don’t you?” again, his eyes widened in the affirmative.

“If you report any of us, I will bring upon you a darkness you have never known.”

Fellspear seemed unimpressed until Rochelle whispered, “Have you ever known me to lie?”

Rochelle seemed satisfied with his answer, and together they bundled Fellspear’s stiffened body into a cupboard. By the time he was able to move they would be long gone.

*****

It was a long walk to Hogsmead, the town below Hogwarts, made all the more unpleasant by a snowy wind that was coming down from the mountains. Autumn was passing into winter and soon the place would be covered with a blanket of snow. But at least it wasn’t raining. Rochelle marched ahead a little, apparently having taken command of the operation, despite the fact she had no idea where they were going. Naseem wrapped his robe around him and declared this adventure lark wasn’t half as much fun as he’d been told. Together they slipped through the quiet streets, avoiding the Three Broomsticks and the other more popular hangouts until they reached a tiny shop with a dirty front window. George led them inside, and Naseem jumped as the bell over the door rang. Just in case he pulled up the hood on his robe. Rochelle sneered a little and Chloe just sighed. 

“Hello George my lovely,” said a rather red faced woman behind the counter of what turned out to be a sweet shop.

“Afternoon Gladys,” said George, emptying his pockets on the counter then glancing at the others to do the same. 

“Nice haul. You got the sherbet too?”

“Would I let you down Gladys,” said George digging further into his pockets for a parcel of sherbet dip dabs. 

“Is this illegal?” whispered Naseem.

Gladys and George both laughed at the same time. 

“Of course not,” said Gladys leaning forward conspiratorially. “But it might not be quite legal for me to repackage, for instance, jelly babies as ‘charm children’ and sherbet as ‘fizzy flue powder’ and charge twice the price. Wizarding kids don’t know the difference. George here helps me keep things on the quiet.”

Gladys handed George a small pouch that had a very satisfying clunk to it. He looked at the gang with a large grin. 

“Chips,” he said.

“Chips,” they replied.

*****

The Baked Potato was not one of the most popular spots in Hogsmead. It did not serve butterbeer and plenty of the surfaces had a painfully thin layer of grease on them that no amount of scrubbing could remove, had anyone ever tried to. The proprietor, who was known only as Hovis, was a large bearded man who had an unnerving ability to watch the tables and the deep fat fryer at the same time. His white chef’s top failed spectacularly to project an aura of cleanliness and hygiene by its myriad and unidentifiable stains. However, the place did serve decent chips.

George and his gang had settled in by the large window at the front, and had found a blissful silence and communion in eating their chips together. Naseem had relaxed somewhat now they were past the worst and enjoyed lowering the larger chips into his mouth from a height. Rochelle seemed to pounce on her chips like a hawk, studying them for weakness before making her move.

“There is still one thing I do not quite understand,” she asked as she kept her chips under observation. “Each night we are treated to a feast with more food than even Naseem could possibly eat. Yet we have risked severe punishment for chips.”

George was about to reply but Naseem leant forward. “Let me take this one,” he said expertly. “You see Shell, I mean Rochelle, Dumbledore may be the greatest wizard in the world, but he can’t do chips.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s true,” chimed in Chloe. “Magic just can’t do chips properly. I’ve studied it a bit actually.”

“Instead of doing your actual homework,” laughed Naseem.

Chloe was a little unsettled by his jibe and emphasised her expertise with a glare at Naseem as she continued. 

“You see, chips are fried in fat, and basically taste nice because they are bad for you. Magic has a certain purity, especially when handled correctly. It can’t really bring out the badness of chips, which is what makes them so nice. It’s like decaff coffee.”

“So you’re saying ‘you know who’ would magic up great chips?”

“I suppose. It would explain why people joined his cause.”

“So, not the power of ultimate evil, or the threat of horrible torture, but the promise of decent chips?”

“I’ve heard worse theories.”

“Come on,” said George. “Time we were getting back. If we’re quick we can mix into the crowd coming back from Quidditch practice.”

“Don’t forget your book Cloves,” said Naseem as they got up. Chloe had been carrying the huge tome that had enfolded her comic since they left. Skidding back to the table she gathered it up in her arms as quickly as she could.

“You could have left that behind Cloves, no one would have taken it even from the corridor,” said Naseem.

“But it’s a library book,” Chloe replied, and hugged her sacred charge a little closer.

“It might have been damaged,” said Rochelle. “No book would be worth the punishment that would have incurred.”

“All books are worth any punishment,” said Chloe with a finality that offered no contradiction.

With a nod to Hovis the group left the Baked Potato and stepped out into the cold once more. The wind had picked up considerably and while the snow wasn’t settling it was getting hard to see through the blizzard. The robes of the group flapped around them like wings as they huddled against the wind and made their way up the hillside towards the school. It was tough going, perhaps a little too tough.

Chloe was the first to notice, but still wasn’t quick enough. A realisation hit her and as she opened her mouth to shout to the others, before something powerful smashed into her and threw her into the air. Chloe vanished into the blizzard, clutching her book and shouting as hard as she could ‘Elemental!’

The others pulled out their wands immediately, but they were already inside the creature. An air elemental, a construct of wind and snow. A living storm they had walked right inside. But such creatures were summoned; they didn’t just wander around the grounds. They were constructs of magic. The wind grew in violence and intensity now it was unmasked, attempting to smash the others after Chloe. But together they used their wands to disperse as much as they could.

The reason for the elemental became clear as several silhouettes came towards the group out of the storm. They were all dressed in Slytherin green and at the head of them was Darius Fellspear, his prefect badge noticeably absent. Rochelle squared up to him in a moment, wand at the ready.

“I warned you Fellspear,” she called out. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” laughed Darius over the wind. “I didn’t break my promise; I haven’t reported any of you. But I did bring a few of my people to get some payback.”

“You will regret this,” stated Rochelle, colder than the storm, and with a tiny flick of her wrist, mauve pellets of magic blasted out of her wand.

“Shield!” shouted George, and Naseem’s wand flared beside him. The other Slytherin had spaced out, making them harder to see but their blasts scattered against Naseem’s shield. George returned fire but the wind was a tough barrier and gave the Slytherin a powerful advantage.

“We’ve got to find Chloe,” shouted George against the storm.

“Agreed,” said Naseem. “But remember, you’re the hero, I’m the sidekick!” He was about to ask if Rochelle would be alright. But she was amidst a storm of her own trading magical blasts with Fellspear. It appeared that if anything she had previously played down her abilities as a duellist.

Chloe had landed just outside the storm. Upon picking herself up she realised that almost every part of her hurt. But the book had acted as a form of armour against the blast from the elemental. Half covered in snow she had remained unnoticed by the Slytherin she had landed quite close to. He was pointing his wand and concentrating hard. Even in the cold, sweat was breaking out on his brow. Elementals were hard to control and this one was big. 

Trying to keep low she did her best to sneak a little closer. But her hairband had come loose and as a sweep of wind caught it, it fell over her eyes. She tripped in the snow and landed with a thump just next to the Slytherin. He grinned down with a look of both surprise and triumph. Releasing some of his control on the elemental he pointed his wand at Chloe as she fumbled with her hair to clear her vision.

“Stupid Ravenclaw,” he monologued. “You nearly had me worried, but you’re just a girl.”

At this, Chloe lifted her leg and drove it as hard as she could between his. As he doubled over she lifted the book and brought it down on his head, several times. The Slytherin was quickly beaten into the snow, cracking his head on the hard ground. 

“That’s just a girl with a book, to you, numb-nuts,” said Chloe in triumph.

Behind her the storm was vanishing. With no one to maintain the elemental it was sliding back into the wind. The blizzard began to die down and the snow fell away to reveal the others locked in combat with the Slytherin. 

George and Naseem were staying close trying to make their way towards Chloe, George doing the fighting and Naseem covering him with a shield. Naseem may have been a coward, but it meant he’d paid more attention than most when it came to protective spells. Rochelle was locked in combat with Fellspear. Both stood almost stone still but for the slightest movement from their wands. Beams of energy issued from each wand and crackled together like fencing blades.

With the storm and their advantage gone, the tide was turning against the other Slytherin. George had stupefied a couple and the others couldn’t get past Naseem’s shield. Chloe grabbed her wand and threw a couple of shots from their flank to take down a couple more before running to meet the others. Snuggling a little closer than necessary to Naseem and his shield, she and George picked off the others until their enemies decided to make a run for it.

Rochelle and Darius remained locked together, their concentration so intense, no one from either side dared to intervene. Fellspear began to grin, the energy from his wand edging closer to Rochelle. Her usual confidence apparently gone Rochelle began to grit her teeth, but the energy still crept closer.

Then suddenly there was a thump and Fellspear suddenly looked dazed, his concentration broken. Rochelle’s magic washed over him like a tide, blasting the while area in glittering mauve flames. When the light cleared, the other Slytherin had gone, and George stood over Fellspear’s comatose body.

“Backstab,” he grinned, brandishing his fist. “Double damage.”

“I never thought teaching you to play Dungeons and Dragons would prove so useful,” said Chloe.

“Actually, I had that. I was lulling him into a false sense of security,” growled Rochelle.

“Really? It didn’t look like it,” joked Naseem.

“Are you questioning my veracity?” said Rochelle, at which point Naseem became very quiet and decided to find the floor very interesting.

“Guys, we really need to get back and straighten out our story,” said George, who received no disagreement. He nudged Fellspear with his foot who issued a low moan. “I don’t think these guys will be giving us any trouble for a little while.”

As they trudged up the hill, a tabby cat that had been watching for quite some time followed them at a discreet distance. They were proving an interesting group those four, but much more troublesome when they belonged to different houses. She’d have to keep a closer eye on them all. They worked well as a team and McGonagall mused to herself that they might easily become fine and skilled wizards and witches. She was interested to hear what story they would come up with to excuse this. But they were definitely going to suffer a very long detention when they got back to school.


End file.
